The Days In between
by xxfictionalizedxx
Summary: Lost has ended, but what happens when the small group leaves the island? Life hasn't ended for them and they have a lot to deal with ahead. How will everyone cope with the recent changes and adjustments yet to come? It's been three years, but anything can happen...
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first long fan fiction, so I hope it goes well! Reviews would be lovely. Thanks for reading :)**

Chapter 1

The brute force of the airplane's take-off mixed with the delirious overflow of ecstasy and remorse present since finally leaving the island caused her eyes to shut. She was already crying, for god knows what reason, but the reality of this situation sent a brand new waterfall of tears down her face.

In less than a day, this group had experienced more chaos, heartbreak, and relief than they probably had in the the last three years. Had it really been three years since the crash? Three years since Sawyer and Claire had lived in the real world? _Three years._

It had just dawned on Kate that she actually had no idea what Miles or Richard had to go home to. If they had family worried about them. If they yearned for comfort and safety as she did.

Home. What did she have in the complicated reality back in Los Angeles. Loneliness? A reputation as a fugitive? A vacant house, save for the flood of children's toys. And Aaron's room. My god did she miss Aaron. He was Claire's son, not hers. But for three long years _she_ was his Mom. _She_ took care of him when he was sick, played with him during the day, taught him how to talk, and educated him on what was right and what was wrong. She raised him through the crucial years of child development. He was the something good she'd always wanted. An actual human being that was pure because of what she had done. But he wasn't hers to raise anymore. And she would have to accept that. Deep down she knew she was never fit to be a mother. If she couldn't take care of herself for twenty some years, how on god's green earth could she care for a little boy for as long as she did? She chalked it up to dumb luck.

Next to Kate sat a grubby and grimy looking Claire. She slowly took her lucid blue eyes off of the view from her window, landing them on Kate's clearly distressed face. "Kate, are you okay?"

The light, concerned sound of Claire's voice snapped her back into the moment. 'Claire'. The name rang unwelcomely and almost hauntingly in her ears. She suppressed a shiver. Claire was the real mother of Aaron. Aaron was going back into the hands of his true guardian. A better guardian. She attempted a nonchalant reply.

"Um…what?" She mentally kicked herself for such an idiotic response. Could she not think of anyone but herself?

Claire began speaking right away, which reassured Kate that she didn't sound guilty of spending the last few moments mourning her loss of Aaron.

"Are you okay?" she repeated, "Because you don't look so good. I mean, I understand why you where crying and all because frankly I still feel like I am too…I mean who wouldn't be." She paused for a moment, looking longingly into the space in front of her face. A flicker of ferocity in her eyes startled Kate. "But, I don't know" she began again, "you seem" she drew her breath in nervously, "..a little off. I haven't really seen you this way before," she finished, her eyebrows meeting in a concerning line atop her dirt caked forehead.

"Umm….yeah….I'm fine." She clearly avoided making eye contact. The air between them felt suddenly stifled. Claire shifted in her seat nervously.

Kate pretended not to notice and sat in a stiffened position, hoping for the illusion of collectedness and normalcy. She honestly didn't want Claire to feel any more unsure of seeing Aaron again, resulting in her swiftly standing up and searching for a new seat. Sure it was rude, but she didn't want to burden Claire further, when she was probably terrified of seeing Aaron again after all these years. She was shutting down any earlier emotions, subconsciously tossing them from her mind. Moving with purpose she crossed the isle and plunked down next to James.

Running from conflict as usual. Three years had gone by, and old habits were already manifesting. Figures.

James acknowledged her presence with a slight nod of the head. She let out an angry sigh. He didn't really know what to say. He had just seen Kate profess her love to Jack in a tearful parting, gotten everyone on the plane before the damn island sunk, and now here they were. Sitting in an airplane headed to LA. _God,_ was she hard to read. Was she thinking about Jack? _Jack_. Everything had gotten complicated since the Doc just had to be the hero and bring everyone back to the island. Why did Locke plant that idea in his head? Why couldn't he just be happy in the real world? He slumped down, agitated at the open ended situation. He decided not to think about that right now.

Thinking about the island would only make him think about _her._ And he would have none of that. Not yet.

He looked back at at the seat next to him. Her stare gave absolutely no indication of what was going on in her mind, except that she was obviously distraught. Who was it that said eyes were the window to the soul? What a load a' crap.

Before, he _could_ usually look at her and know what was going on. Or at least have some general idea. He knew her in a way he hadn't really known anyone before the island. But three years is a long time. And Kate was a different Kate. Her green-flecked eyes were but a mystery. He was unfamiliar with the curves on her face. Her nose, her chin, her cheeks were now un-searched territory. Almost like a stranger's face, he thought. Like someone you meet and have an odd inkling that you've seen them before.

But those dang freckles didn't seem to elude him, he had to admit.

But it was the same for him. He was different too. He wasn't as sleazy or manipulative like before. He didn't haggle over his youth like he so desperately clung too in the past. He wasn't impulsive like before. He thought before he acted. _Okay,_ that might be a stretch, but he wasn't that stubborn boy trapped inside a con man anymore. Three years could do wonders. But deep down he knew it was more than just the time passage that changed him. It was the woman he loved who had the power to sway him in such major ways.

His stomach clenched as the memories flashed by. They popped up like painful blows, one moment after another.

The time they moved all of her stuff into his little Dharma house like they where college roommates. He was actually tentative of scaring her off back then.

The time she convinced him that a beachside picnic was the perfect idea, and it was. That afternoon shad began with lustful gazes and ended with the two of them sprawled on the ground haphazardly, sweaty and covered in gritty sand.

The night he cooked for her and she attempted to suppress laughter as she politely gnawed on his overcooked steak. Though he couldn't chew through the rubbery meat, he stood by his meal. Once she failed at keeping her amusement at bay, he finally gave in and joined her in laughter. They ate frozen meals and read like an old married couple. Until she interrupted him with a long, passionate and lingering kiss that led to a beautiful night.

Or even the simple times when they got ready for work in the morning and exchanged playful banter and encouraging words for the day ahead. They'd peck each other on the cheek and part ways. He's watch her every move as if he would never see her perform them again.

My god this was like some torturous montage creating excruciating pain. Tears where gathering in the spot behind his stormy eyes. He hated this. He couldn't let this get to him. As he brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, he was distracted by Kate's voice.

"So," something was wrong, she could tell, but she sporadically decided to let it go. "what are you going to do once we land?" Damn. Like that was any better. God she hated herself sometimes.

"Well, I'll probably flag down my limo driver and kick back 'till we reach my modern mansion and have a fancy-ass glass of vodka" he replied bitterly.

"Ha ha." she mused, suppressing a small smile. This was the James Ford she remembered.

"Well? What the hell are your plans?"

Her face changed slightly, in such a small fashion that only a few people could even tell anything had changed. She sighed forlornly and turned away.

"I don't even have a plan," she whispered, forcing a sarcastic laugh. James Ford was no fool. She was upset, he knew that for sure. Now he had insight into the actual problem. Finally, something familiar. He knew how she worked when it came to lying.

If only he could help. But his mind was too busy for that.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Where am I going to go!?"

Claire was frantic now, hyperventilating and moving around like a fish out of water. It was terrifying to any onlookers at the airport.

Kate escorted her to the nearest facilities, excusing their scene along the way to flyers with judgmental and piercing retinas pointed their way.

"It's okay, It's okay" she repeated soothingly. "You're going to stay with your mom in the Motel 6. It's okay, Claire, breathe,"

Claire tried to calm herself with her breath, a hard feat, it turned out. This only seemed to end up in more hysteria at the failure to obey the command.

With arms outstretched Kate drew her in for a hug. With reluctancy she allowed a stream of tears to escape her eyes and engulfed herself in Kate's embrace. She didn't have to do this. She had every reason to be curt and to the point. She'd been so mean to her back on the island. She didn't deserve this.

After a moment passed, Kate released the hug and put her hands on Claire's shoulders.

"You ready to head back in?"

They had landed at the airport, as the flight was supposed to land, but Frank had insisted that they all scatter within the airport and then leave as soon as possible. He said he would explain the crash and tell them that the other passengers had passed away upon impact.

Kate was a bit nervous that this would bring attention to the fact that the oceanic passengers where in another crash, and that was just blatantly suspicious. But she swallowed her fears, and although they stayed in a lump at her throat, she went along with his plan.

"Okay," Claire shakily responded. Kate was relieved to be one step closer to leaving this airport. The pair quickly met up with Sawyer and Miles for one last rendez-vous before they scrambled. "Sawyer" she thought. Since when did she stop referring to him as that. She guessed the island, round two, morphed his name into "James" from now on. She didn't quite know how that sat with her.

Kate took him by the arm, swinging him away from the group. "Hey, whatcha gotta rip my arm off for," he drawled, clearly annoyed. She rolled her eyes and sighed, then set her mind into ready mode. This was to be a quick conversation.

"Where are you going? I need the address."

"Well hey, what's got you so ballsy. Who says I want to tell you where I'm headed?" This was so obviously not true but he didn't give the slightest bit of concession in his face or voice. Kate would be lying if she had said this didn't hurt, but she brushed it off, and went on with her proposition.

"What I mean is…my place," she paused to draw in breath, concealing her bubbling feelings for Aaron, "my place is a, a bit lonely and I think it would be crazy to lose contact so quickly. After all we've been through a lot together." Those were some hard words for her to say, but now it was out there. Out in a grey cloud between the space in which they breathed.

James mulled this over in his head. Everything felt stiff and frozen. His mind was foggy. On one hand, he knew that having Kate available was almost and inevitability realized at the moment they got off the island. Everyone, really. Before he was just teasing. But on the other hand he seriously wanted privacy, cigarettes, and booze. But is that what _she_ would want? No. He needed these people right now whether his willful nature would let him say that or not. So he begrudgingly began to tell her about his house. It was located in the suburbs (a target place for conning lonely housewives) and had been vacant since 2004. But that was where he lived. And that was where he was going.

To Kate's relief he finally began to verbally give her the address. She gasped quietly as he recited the location. "Oh my god," He looked at her like she was crazy, but it seemed to go unnoticed by Kate. "I live only about ten minutes from there."

He looked her straight in the eye. "Good. We may need each other right now." He smiled shortly and left with Miles to hail a taxi. Huh. Maybe they were going to try to be roommates.

Now she drew her attention to a much more calm Claire. She was tapping her fingers absent mindedly on the side of her leg.

She was calmer knowing that she was going to an actual room with a bed and food. But everything was about to change. She was going to see her son for the first time in three years. Would he like her? Would he even _remember_ her. Oh god, she was also going to see her mom. Her mom she thought was comatose. She began breathing deeper and deeper until she felt slightly woozy.

She could do this, right? Oh god could she? Finally she decided to suck it up and ask if Kate was ready to go. And she was.

They took off, ready to arrive at the motel 6. This was a new beginning Claire hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

She took a breath as deep as the ocean is wide. This was quite possibly the most difficult obstacle Claire had yet faced.

How do you tell your own mother, whom you believed was in a coma, that you crashed on a mysterious island, had a baby, had that baby stolen, and then continued to live on that landform for a grilling three years. How do you stand across from someone and not seem positively crazy for describing that scenario, not to mention looking like a scruffy wildebeest as well.

She didn't know. Out of the blue a chuckle escaped from her mouth and she brought her hand up to her lips to muffle the sound. This was honestly an objectively funny experience. But dead serious when it is you in this position, she thought.

She knocked on the door. This was frightening, but she yearned to be in the comfortable presence of her mom.

After what felt like a decade, the rickety hotel door swung open and there stood a slightly tall, well shaven man, with a smile that showed teeth. "Umm…I…is, uh, Mrs. Littleton here?" Claire was dumbfounded by this man, and she inwardly winced at all her stuttering.

"Yes, she's right in there, I was just dropping of a package" he dimpled, pointing towards the inside of the tiny motel. She felt like something odd was going on, but shook it off as she let the strange man pass by her right side. In she went.

"Hello?" she tried. No answer. Then, the familiar sound of a toilet's flush came and out and with it her mom.

She stared with disbelief, and went to sit on the saggy hotel bed. "Claire" she breathed, as if the word was almost a forbidden term. Claire could feel the tears she knew would come, rising in her throat.

"Oh my…Claire…its really you, isn't it! I thought you were dead," her mother exclaimed with an air of sadness towards the end of the expression.

Claire felt a bit more at ease. It was her mother's animated voice in her ears after all these years. Finally they were both in the same room, ready to talk to one another.

"It's me," she ventured meekly, "I'm back."

And without hesitation she threw her arms around her mom's neck letting a tear travel down her cheek. They stayed like this, mother and daughter reunited, for a long time. Either time one would loosen the grip of the hug, the other would latch on tighter, and Claire felt like she was in heaven. At least for this one moment.

"Okay," Kate breathed, "Do you understand?"

She had just finished explaining to Aaron for the second time that she was now to be called "Aunt Kate", and he still wasn't getting it, proven by the overly exaggerated look of curiosity spread across his young face.

This was so painful for her. She was no longer 'Mama' or 'Mommy'. Why was she wallowing so much? She was truly disgusted with herself. She had to step back. But how do you get a three year old to understand that his real mom is back and you have been a fraud mother figure. Apparently it is incomprehensible for toddlers like Aaron. She let out a slightly exasperated sigh.

"Well, Aaron sweetie, your going to meet a very nice lady who is going to be your mommy. I want you to be nice to her," she stopped to swallow a lump that formed out of nowhere, "give her a big hug because I know how happy she is to see you," she finished.

"Okay, I'll give a biiiiggggg hug, like this." he responded, thrusting himself onto Kate while wrapping his arms and legs around her torso like a monkey. Kate couldn't help but let the salt water behind her eyes seep out.

"Mommy, why you crying?" She angrily wiped the tears away. "Mommy's fine. It's just complicated." "Okay," he responded. To make matters more difficult for Kate, he looked her right in the eyes then spontaneously gave her a kiss on the cheek, pulling away with laughter.

Just the look in his gleaming blue eyes when he smiled was enough to give her the strength she needed. It's really amazing what kids can do for you, she noted.

"Okay honey, you ready to head over?" he nodded his head up and down. She took his hand and ventured out of the paint-chipped door and took the abbreviated route down the sidewalk, only three doors over.

She looked down at Aaron one last time and opened the door. No looking back now.

"Hi, looks like somebody wants to say hello!" she mused. With that Aaron appeared in the doorway and Claire and Mrs. Littleton looked over. Claire gasped and brought her hand to her mouth as her jaw actually dropped.

Aaron tentatively walked over to his mother. She couldn't help but smile. Look how much he had grown up! He was absolutely beautiful. Aaron had finally ended his journey over to Claire, and before a word could escape her mouth, he jumped on her just as he did with Kate.

"Hello, baby," was all she could manage as she immersed herself in her son's embrace. The stars were aligned and this felt right. Just like it had with her mom. It didn't matter that she had been absent until now, but one thing did bother her. And that _thing_ was standing in the doorway, a sappy look upon her face. How could her son not love her the most.

Despite this she tried to focus solely on this moment, and pretend none of the island shit had ever taken place.

Kate was happy to see this picturesque scene, but something else was nagging at her brain. Or maybe it was her heart. "I'm going to head back to my room, you guys have fun," she stated quickly and hurried out of the room, leaving Aaron with his blood family, in the arms of his mother. And not to mention his grandmother. She could trust Mrs. Littleton, right?


	4. Chapter 4

The wind was sharp as she ran towards her motel room, and it stung her already wet eyes. The door swung shut and rebounded. In a fit of anger she slammed it even harder and let out a quiet scream, filled with indignation.

She felt so weak and out of control as she fell to a heap on the floor at the end of her mothball ridden bed. But she had finally let one thing slip into her mind, for the first time in hours. Jack.

Why did he have to stay? Was he okay, oh god, was he? She sobbed inwardly as these clearly unanswerable questions swarmed her head.

She hated herself for letting it get to her, but how the hell would it _not_ make her upset. Jack was…he was someone different. He was her friend, for sure, but the rest was a wonderful, upsetting, happy and sappy mess of a relationship. But she didn't care. He was gone and she would never see him again.

With this a new flow of choking tears shook her body. This was too much. She wanted this to stop. She never wanted to go back. _Damn you, Jack Shepard!_ At once her crying was interrupted with a giggle. What a stubborn man, Jack was.

She was still upset, but she couldn't afford to be this vulnerable. With everything going on she had to be strong.

Kate walked to the tiny bathroom, and splashed some water on her face. This was going to be a hard couple of days.

She decided to take a shower to wash the island away. To eradicate any memories of Jack so she could focus. Focus on what she needed to do, not to remember. When you remember, you get hurt.

It happened with her mom, the woman she tested the law for, and my god did it pain her to think of her ailing mother. But it also caused her an immense amount of anger. Why would her mom just drop her when she saved her from that bastard Wayne?

It happened with anyone she had actually dated and loved. Maybe that was a small number, but it let her relive a time that she would never experience again. And it was upsetting each moment her dad popped into her mind. He loved her, but who knew if that was true anymore. Probably not, seeing who she had become.

It happened with everyone she loved, so why was she going to put herself through that pain?

That was that. No more remembering. The past doesn't exist, there is only the future ahead.

James sunk down into the black leather couch as he watched the clock adjacent to him. The second hand was constant, and time marched on. Time without his old life. Time without _her_.

He wasn't really inside himself at this particular moment. He was floating like a dreary raincloud above his own head. He couldn't feel anymore. He decided to block out any memories of the last three years. This fog had come over his mind and all he wanted was a drink. Something to feel good. Something that would help him to forget.

He had whiskey in the closet, he recalled. But he was too lazy to retrieve it. So he continued staring. The tick tock of the clock had become a mockery to his heart beat. How could _he_ of all people be reduced to a slumped over version of a man, wallowing. Maybe this was who he really was. A man doomed from the beginning.

Just when he felt himself becoming tired and feeling able to close his eyes, he was interrupted by Miles. He could hear the familiar crinkle of grocery bags and the door shutting as he was accompanied in his apartment. He continued to stare ahead, ignoring the fact that he was no longer alone.

"Dude, are you just going sit there? Have you even moved since I left?" At this James finally moved his lips to say "No" in a gruff voice. He kept his head still and eyes still staring right ahead at that damn clock.

Next thing he knew a pillow was in his face. At once he was on his feet. "The hell was that?" he nearly screamed. Miles was done with James lying around and it had been only a handful of hours since they entered the apartment.

"You are, aren't you. You're just going to sit there whining over Juliet like some depressed old bastard, " he spat, tossing the pillow aside.

James sprung into action and hit Miles square in the chest. He backed up, raising his hands in surrender. "Dude.." James grabbed his tee-shirt and brought his face close, so they were only centimeters away from one another. His pupils grew ferocious like a time lapse video of a flower they show in little kid science classes. But there was a heart wrenching aspect mixed in with his stormy pair of eyes.

"Don't you say that! Don't you say her name again, ye hear me!" He waited a fraction of a second then screamed again, but wavering this time. "Do you!"

His heart was in knots, feelings were welling up like lava from a volcano and no matter how hard he tried to maintain a stern expression, he simply couldn't. His chiseled face softened and threatened to crumble. His eyes were glazed over. His slight wrinkles increased with the pain of the past twisting his flesh. He was reaching his breaking point and no amount of screaming could keep the tears in anymore. Just a few tears were present, but that was too many for James. Miles tentatively approached his friend, but Ford immediately shooed him away. "Go," he managed through strangled breath. "Just go."

His companion obliged and went in the direction of the spare room. James would not stand for this. His emotions where at an all time high, when just minutes ago they were buried so deep that they lay almost dead. He was numb, but the novocaine was beginning to wear off when he heard her name.

Juliet.

The wonderful title given to such a riveting woman rang in his ears with wistful melancholy and pure beauty. Not just her physical beauty came to mind, but her internal jubilance swam to the surface as well. Her laugh sounded like some cruel alarm and her need to do what was the best for every situation was caught in the back of his mind like gum to the sole of a shoe.

In his haze of thoughts he found himself clutching a crumpled piece of paper in his left hand like it was a lifeline. He peeled it out of his tight grasp to see what he was holding so intensely. The scrap of paper was balled up so small that it was difficult to reverse but James managed to carefully smooth it out. He was appalled at what he was staring at.

Kate's address.


End file.
